


Afraid to Live

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: HP: EWE, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-20
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 08:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2644658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when the pig raised for slaughter lives? </p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>Severus Snape has never been accused of being the most socially ept man, but when Draco comes into his shop to say the Boy-Who-Lived tried to become the Man-Who-Didn't,  he knows that it takes someone who has been there to understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Understanding Type

The ward is mostly silent.

Severus is unsure if it is the patient or the nature of the reason he is here that keeps it so- but can’t bother finding it in himself to be suspicious. Not now. He’s been sitting by the bedside for 36 hours, watching the machines hum, rustling at the occasional beep. Harry rarely stirs but when he does it is with bleary eyes and too many apologies- never enough subsistence.

He shouldn’t be here.

Since it couldn’t be Weasley or Granger- Mr Finnigan or Miss Patil. perhaps even Longbottom or Lovegood. Someone from his year in the least. Even a stranger would be better than him. Anyone else would have more emotional vacancy, more compassion, more…. comfort. The thought is enough to make him stand up and head for the door but a voice raw from screaming stops him.

"m sorry. sorry. sorry"

"Shush, boy."

He’s not a boy anymore, but it’s easy to slip back into that professor voice and emerald flutters shuts once again. Severus is never sure what he’s apologizing for, assumes he isn’t the recipient anyway. Doesn’t have the heart to ask who the apology is for, knows too likely that whoever it is will never get to hear it.

It’s hard, even for him, to wraps his mind around the fact that a week ago, everything was okay and that a small string of events has him closing up shop to play watch in a hospital room. That less than two days ago was when Draco drifted in his door before warding it shut.

"Wouldn’t even be here but… life debt and all."

Severus had prepared himself for the worst, to be asked to do something terrible in the name of the debt but Draco leans against the counter and stares up at him.

"Granger is slipping in her age, brightest witch of our age my arse. Can’t even cast a proper silencing charm when she’s upset."

He’s waiting for Snape to say something, but Severus has been out of practice for stroking Malfoy egos too long to bother commenting. Finally the blond speaks again,

"Saw them in the waiting room. Golden boy tried to…" Draco looks off for a second, takes a deep breathe and then, " tried to off himself. The youngest Weasel boy found him….. called Mungos and then left. Overheard Granger and him yelling. Says she ‘understands’ that he feels betrayed and that it was selfish but that they should be there. but even she… even she seemed to agree."

He hadn’t known what to say, or why Draco is telling him, “Look, I can use my Healer credentials to get you in the ward, but I can’t stay. He needs… he needs someone who understands.”

 

Understands.

Severus has never been accused of being the understanding type before but he supposes he knows where Draco is coming from. They’ve never spoken of the night Snape removed the knifes, never spoken of the sleeping potion, never spoken about the year they were on the run and how Severus had saved his life in more ways than one. Never judged. Never called him selfish just…

"Not now Mr. Malfoy."

Just

"We can fix this and then we have to move."

just

"You have to hold onto hope."

He has never been the understanding type, but he understands what it is like to lose everything. Understands why even if Miss Granger were to attempt to show up, Draco’s words of warning will keep them out of the room. She would have to ask questions, she would need to understand that which is ununderstandable unless one has been there. Draco has never asked, but the Potions Master is almost positive he assumes.

Even the slightest hint of ‘you should feel bad for this’ would cause an untold amount of damage and as hot headed as Mr. Weasley was… he most definitely wouldn’t be allowed in. There is a piece of Severus that is proud of Draco for reaching out, knows it’d be disastrous if the media got a hold of the recent events, but at the same time, it’d be terrible to wake up alone.

He still isn’t the best choice for this. He is no Molly Weasley, he has no tea, no sweaters, no bosom to coddle errant children to. 

"m sorry. sorry. sorry"

"So you’ve said, Mr. Potter."

"sorry."

"You haven’t any reason to be sorry."

"sorry."

Severus exhales, turns to fully face the young man again, settling into the chair as he does so. Carefully, trying to hide how awkward he feels, he sets a hand on Harry’s shoulder.

"Mr. Potter, I have never been one to spare your feelings. If there was something for you to be sorry for, I can promise you that I would tell you. In this instance…. what may it be… you have done nothing wrong. Rest. You need to heal."

"mean it?"

"Have I ever said something I didn’t mean, Mr Potter?"

and that actually pulls a smile from him, “all the time.”

But the conversation is enough and the boy is unconscious before Severus can inquire as to what he means.

———

"Absolutely not."

"Prof- Mr. Snape, it is procedure to keep… patients in Mister Potter’s…. situation…. until a family member comes to collect them or until we’re able to know for sure it won’t turn into a repeat issue. As he won’t explain what brought him here we cannot clear him for leaving without supervision."

"Well, that’s settled then."

"Sir?"

"Mr. Potter, as you are very well aware, has no living relatives. It is inevitable someone will catch wind of where Mr. Potter is located if he remains here much longer, so that leaves us with the only plausible option. He will be coming to stay with me."

"Mr. Snape, are you sure that is the best idea? While you have been his only visitor… your reputation…"

"Healer Malfoy, and only Healer Malfoy, may come by my place of residency at any time to check on Mister Potter. I can promise that Mr. Potter will be in good hands."

————

"I… you didn’t have to do this."

"Would you rather stay at the hospital wing longer, Mr. Potter? You’d already been there a week, I have a shop to run. It was common sense to bring you here but if you’re unappreciative of my hospitality I could return you there for the next unforeseeable future"

"You could just let me go, Snape. It’s not like anyone is actually going to check in on me."

There’s a bitter edge there, and Snape can’t help but remember the fact that Harry hadn’t spoken to him the entire day after being told that Ron and Hermione had chosen not to visit him in the hospital. He’d opted not to tell him about Draco’s overheard conversation, but their absence had spoken loud enough.

"I gave my word that I would house and take care of you, the latter of which I have done for many years. If nothing else, I consider myself a man of my word and ask you to aid me in continuing to be such. The second door to your left is where you may place your things. If you’d like, we may visit your apartment later on to fetch anything else you might need."

Potter glares at him a moment longer before storming off to his new ‘room’, tossing what little he had with him in the hospital on the floor before stripping off his shirt and plopping on the bed.

It is like this, shoes still on, half dressed and staring at the ceiling, that Snape finds him two hours later. He stands by the door watching for a few moments, contemplating whether or not to disturb the young man, but the choice is taken away from him when Harry rolls over and stares at him.

"Mr. Potter, I am not by any means a kind man, nor am I the most caring. That being said… there is a reason I was the person there when you woke up from trying to poison yourself. No, do not flinch, do not deny it. We have been dancing about the subject, the healers avoided saying it, but you were trying to kill yourself.

I am not here to judge you, nor would I if I was. If there is one thing that can be said of my character, it is that I have walked where devils feared to tread and continued to live. 

I understand what it is like to lose everything. I know what it is like to lose all hope.

But above all else, I know how to survive that. It would be in your favor to not bite the hand that feeds you, much less offend a potential ally when you have few others.”

He leaves, and Harry can almost envision the billowing robes going after him. He ignores Snape’s call for dinner, curling up tighter on the bed before drifting off to sleep. When he rouses the next morning, the sun isn’t up yet but Snape is sitting at the small kitchen table, eyes focused on the serving tray in front of him.

"You always did know how to make a speech."

When Snape doesn’t acknowledge him, Harry moves to take a seat, fixing a cup of tea from the pot in the center before commenting again.

"But I find it really ironic to get lectured by you about biting the hand that feeds or offending others. You certainly never cared about either."

There’s a slight curl of the lip then, quick enough that Harry isn’t sure that he isn’t imagining things. Stealing a biscuit off the tray he continues to study Snape’s face before shrugging and accepting the silence for what it is. After some time the older man stands up, pausing just before exiting the room.

"I have work today, right now I am going to ready my supplies, you have half an hour to make yourself acceptable. You will be joining me at the shop. There will be no further discussion of this matter and I expect you to tame that’s rats nest you have the audacity to call hair."


	2. Unwilling house guest

It had taken Harry almost an hour and a half to get clean and dressed, having completely underestimated how it would feel to finally have a shower outside of the hospital. How good it is to finally scrub the scent off his skin. He expects Snape to scream at him, but other than an impatient roll of the eyes, the potion master only says the apparation coordinates. In the beginning, Snape goes about preparing ingredients, leaving Harry to awkwardly flit about the front of the shop. It's only after he's front faced everything he can touch that he returns to the back and asks for a chance to do something useful.

"If that is your definition of finely ground, so help me Merlin"

Severus trails off at the utter look of dejection on his current assistant’s face. It isn’t like Potter to take his criticisms so personally, but all things considered perhaps he should have expected the personality change. With a put upon sigh he lays down the knife he’s using to chop ginger and steps behind the man, gently folding his hand over the one that is currently grasping the pestle. He pauses for a moment to watch his face, to make sure that this intrusion of personal space is okay. Draco had been jumpy for almost a month after everything happened, and the last thing he needed was to make Harry uncomfortable while he as residing in his home. When there is no flinch, no reaction beyond a slight stiffening of shoulders, Snape takes the other hand, the one resting against the table and pushes it against the side of the mortar.

"You’ll want to hold your mortar like this," he pauses to readjust the hand in his, "and grasp the pestle like this. Your grip matters…. think about flying. You hold the broom differently based on how you want to fly don’t you? this is no different. There we go, like that."

Eventually his hold on the boy’s hand drops away and he takes a step back and returns to cutting the ginger. They work mostly in silence from there, though he sends the occasional directive Harry’s way. Once the frankincense and rose petals have finally been dropped into the boiling concoction, he waves his wand to lower the heat beneath the cauldron and waves for the boy to join him in the small break room.

"We’ll make a decent brewer out of you yet."

"Perhaps, I seem to have a much better teacher this time around."

Snape shoots him a look as he goes about setting out lunch, a stew that has been brewing on the stove.. Much like tea that morning, Harry accepts that this is a quiet affair. Part of that bothers him, as if it’s a direct commentary on how much he’s intruding, but he doesn’t have enough fight in him to go another round with the man. Besides, he doesn’t seem that put out, and it’s just as likely that the man is accustomed to doing everything alone.

When the potions master notices how intently the young man is watching him, there’s an incline of his head and a slight snarl of his upper lip- but other than that, no comment. As if he understands exactly where Harry’s thoughts have strayed and is offended by the very idea that it would upset him.

Harry shrugs, carefully sipping at the soup as he thinks back to everything he’s known of Snape, during hogwarts, during the war, and even the years after. Vaguely he knows that the youngest Malfoy talked with the man while he was in the hospital, but he doesn’t even recall seeing or hearing about Snape keeping in touch with the other Slytherin students. He’d known that Snape had left teaching after the battle of Hogwarts, had even come into the shop from time to time when work called for it.

Yet the most company Harry had ever noticed was the shop keep. Did the older man really spend all his time alone? Was there a lover that had been asked not to stop by while Harry was around? Or worse yet, hadn’t been told that- and he’d have to hear them. It was a ridiculous train of thought, because even if Snape wasn’t asexual, then it would still require someone being in his space and that wasn’t something the man seemed to appreciate.

"Mr. Potter, if you’re done staring, the potion should be ready for decanting."

Harry pretends there isn’t a flush to his face as Snape clears their plates and the two head back to the work room. It’s only when the cauldron is almost empty that he bothers to ask, “What’s this thing anyway?”

"This, Mr. Potter, is for you. You will take three drops every night before you go to bed."

"What is it though?" Not that he doesn’t trust Snape, he did, or as much as one could trust a former spy, but the idea of taking anything has him feeling uneasy.

"If I had a name for it, I would have told you. As is, all you need to know is that it’s meant to help ease your nightmares. It was hard not to notice your difficulties resting while in the hospital, but the mediwixen refused to allow outside potions. If this doesn’t work… I expect you to tell me immediately."

"I… thank you…. you didn’t have to you know, professor"

"Mister Potter, it may have missed your notice, but I haven’t been your Professor in many years."

"Kind of hard to remember when it’s mister potter this, mister potter that. I have a name, you know. You could call me Harry."

He feels like a bug pinned to the board when Severus looks at him, but the older man only says,” Perhaps, Mister Potter. Perhaps."

Harry is left to clean up the mess of the day as the older man goes to speak to the cashier, the pair exchanging hushed words that Harry is left to imagine. He can feel a prickling in his neck, and looks up to make a face, feeling accomplished when the blond looks away sheepishly, and immature when Snape sends him an answering glare. He mutters under his breath as he finishes scrubbing the cauldron, trying to not feel quite so resentful. He appreciates of course, that he's been let out of the hospital at all, but that doesn't mean he needs people gossiping about him. Just as he considers shooting them another look, Snape comes sweeping back into the room.

"Mr. Andrews has kindly agreed to watch the shop for the rest of the afternoon. We will stop by your place of residence to collect any belongings you need before returning to my home. We will do so with minimum complaining and bartering. Do we have an understanding, Potter?"

"Crystal Clear."

The apartment is sparsely decorated, basic furniture and very little in the way of the unnecessary. The walls are a basic white, furniture black and Severus feels uncomfortable. He feels as if he has walked into a place to rent, not one that has supposedly been inhabited for the past three years. There are no posters on the wall, no books on the shelves, not a single thing strewn about. The first thing Harry had done was disappear into the bathroom, most likely to grab his shower things, and Severus was currently leaning against the door frame leading into the man's bedroom as Harry shoves clothing into what appears to be a bottomless bag.

"Just how long am I supposed to be staying with you anyway?"

"As long as necessary."

"What does that even mean? A week? A month?"

"It means, Mr. Potter, that you will live with me until all parties involved feel that there will not be a repeat. However long that may take- is honestly up to you."

"I'm not your bloody pet, you know. You can't just keep me against my will."

"Ah, of course not. You do have a choice here. Either you can take me up on my generous offer- or I firecall St. Mungos and they forcibly retain you there."

"You'll get tired of me eventually."

"I lived with you under the same roof for six years. I think we will manage. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to get back home this century."


	3. These things we will not say

The next two days are trying in the least. Harry gets fidgety when he doesn't have anything to do, but him and the cashier seem to walk over each other's toes when they're in the same room, and the fact of the matter is that Harry cannot help with brewing for the most part. There is only so much ingredient prep to be done, only so many times the floors can be swept and the man exudes anxiety wherever he is, even causing a few vials to explode in a minor fit of accidental magic. It isn't much, but it is enough that Snape sends an owl to St. Mungos to ask if he should be concerned.

He's trying to be patient, he really is. When Harry mentions feeling awkward at the shop- he offers a compromise. If the man will hand over his wand and allow Severus to place extensive wards, he's allowed to stay at Severus's home alone. Draco visits that evening to make sure everything is settled and Snape leaves the pair in his study, carefully going from room to room to double check for any dangers. He removes all but one knife from the kitchen, spells the edge on it to not cut human flesh, triple sets the wards on the cabinet he keeps his medicinal potions, and laces more general wards through out the entire house.

By the time he makes it back to the study, Draco has dropped his professional demeanor and is sitting on the mahogany desk in the corner of the room, eyes focused on the raven haired man who is hanging upside down off of an armchair, pointedly ignoring both of them. Snape isn't quite sure how they got like this, or how long Harry has been in that position, but the man's face is red enough that he knows when he finally rights himself he'll have a headache. When Severus coughs pointedly, the blond swivels to stare at him instead, and Harry loses concentration enough to drop to the floor instead.

"Will you tell this bloody wanker that I don't need a monitoring spell-"

"Considering you refuse to allow any of the other healers in here, and Potter's condition isn't exactly my specialty by any means- I just think it'd be useful if he'd allow me to follow protocol"

"Follow protocol my arse. There's absolutely no reason you need to know what I'm doing at all times."

"That isn't the point! The point is to be able to see where you are if you... if something happens."

"Like hell it is. How do I know you won't use it to... I don't know- spy on me"

"Why would I even want to spy on you, Boy Wonder? I have better things to do than watch your sorry arse."

"That's probably exactly what you'd be doing- watching my arse. Wanking to --"

"Mister Potter if you finish that sentence you _will_ live to regret it. Draco is not here to further your school boy paranoia- but to act as a professional. That being said, " he turns towards Draco now, " a monitoring spell will not be necessary, Healer Malfoy. He will spend most of his time around me, and when we are not together, I have faith in my wards. I ask that you do the same. I'm sure you understand how potentially degrading it would be to have your actions examined 24/7."

The tone is mostly light, but he doesn't miss the way Draco flinches and looks off to the side guiltily. Severus had gone out of his way to keep the man safe without making him feel trapped, and he had no intention of doing any differently for his newest charge. Not that Harry seems likely to appreciate the sentiment at the current moment. He hadn't been expecting gratitude by far, but it would have been nice to not been glared at for doing what the man asked.

"Whatever you say, Severus. If you don't mind I do have a lovely partner waiting for me at home, who is much- much lovelier to look at than Potter here. I'll check in again in a week unless you need me sooner."

With that Draco takes his leave and Severus isn't sure what to say to the man now watching him warily. In the end, he says nothing at all, opting instead to leave and go about making dinner. The following meal is a silent affair and afterwards Harry retreats to 'his room' without so much as a good night. The next morning Severus knocks on the door to wake him up, one last offer to go to the shop rather than stay in bed all day, but Harry pointedly rolls over instead. The wards don't go off while he's at work, but when he comes back home in the evening, it doesn't appear as if Harry has moved at all. Severus resists the urge to go and check if the boy is still breathing, knows that there is nothing he could have done without being alerted, but it's disconcerting all the same.

When he doesn't come out for dinner, Severus brings a small plate of sandwiches and sets them on the table in the room, sighing when the man continues to refuse to look at him, " If you don't eat, I will have to call Draco to take you back." There's still no movement and Snape goes to walk out of the room, only to pause, one hand on the door frame, "Please eat something." When he checks again before bed, there is still half a sandwich left, but there was an attempt and that is enough for him.

It sets the pattern for the rest of the week, though he no longer bothers trying to rouse Harry out of bed in the morning, simply sets a plate on the table- sometimes fruit, sometimes porridge or eggs, and leaves. In the evening he removes what is left and replaces it with something new. The plate is never quite clean, but so long as Harry is trying to eat, Severus cannot fault him. Despite knowing that the man most likely is spending his days in bed, Severus can't help but look around the house each evening for some sign of life. A moved book, a missing paper, he would even take dishes being left out on the counter if it meant that there was proof the boy was doing something with his days. 

On Saturday he spends an inordinate amount of time in his sitting room, switching between idly reading the prophet and watching the door to Harry's room. It's only after a few hours that something gnaws at him enough to enter without knocking, flinching when he sees the man curled on his side still, tears streaming down his face. Snape doesn't say anything, doesn't know what to say, knows that there are no magic words to fix this, no incantation that will make it stop hurting, so he doesn't try. When he realizes that the boy is watching him in return he crosses to sit on the floor next to the bed, making a show of stretching out his legs in front of him. They stay like this for what feels like ages, the crying getting louder and louder, as if now that he knows, Harry has no more energy to try and keep the sobs contained. The choked sounds raise to a crescendo and then slowly work themselves back down until all that is left is sniffling.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I'm so sorry." It's a steady cracked mantra, one that Potter appears to be repeating over and over to himself. Eventually there is a break but Severus still isn't sure whether or not he's expected to respond, but he feels like he should either way.

This time Snape doesn't tell him that he has nothing to be sorry for, doesn't tell him that it's okay, just continues to look straight ahead and says " I know."   

It isn't until the sniffling gives way to even breaths that the man finally pushes himself off the ground and leaves the room. In the morning he leaves a larger than usual breakfast, aware that neither of them had eaten the previous evening. He tries not to waste anymore of his time waiting for the boy to get out of bed, and instead chooses to spend his time making an intricate dinner. Even if he has no one but himself to impress (merlin knows Potter wouldn't appreciate the effort), it's at least something productive to do with his energy.

It pays off unexpectedly when the man joins him. Again there is only silence, but at least this time when Harry goes to leave he whispers a thank you. These are trying times and Severus will take what he can get.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if folks will find the behavior odd here. But as someone who spent a small stint in a psych ward.... it's not quite a reflection of my reality two years ago, but pretty close.


	4. Vulnerability.

Monday morning finds the man sitting at his kitchen table even earlier than Severus himself. There's a tension in his shoulders and Snape can't help but wonder how long Harry's been waiting, if he'd managed to get any sleep at all, or if he spent another night alternating between pacing and staring at the ceiling. Normally Severus doesn't eat breakfast at the house, prefers to get to the shop as early as possible, but scrambling eggs and making toast gives himself something to do as Harry collects his thoughts. A wave of his wand sends two plates to the table and when he sits down a few minutes later, it is with tea for the both of them. The man at the table is pushing around yellow lumps, but Severus is relieved to note that he is occasionally taking small bites of the offered food. It's only once his tea is almost gone that he realizes the tension is back, eyes drawn to the way tanned hands clutch at the edge of the table.

"Is there something you'd like to ask me?" It's a small kindness, but Severus is trying not to make this any harder than it has to be.

There's a choked sound as Harry drops his hold on the furniture to rub at his face for a few minutes, but Severus waits it out, hoping he has not miscalculated.

"I can't do this. I can't.... stay here and be a burden."

If he was Miss Granger he'd coo softly, reassure the distressed man that he isn't a burden, if he was Mister Weasley perhaps he'd engage in a bout of fanning Potter's ego, going into all the ways that he's been useful before. However, Severus has never been a part of the golden trio, and by the same note, he is not the one who abandoned Harry at St. Mungos a little over two weeks ago. Besides, he knows what it is like to feel worthless, to feel like nothing you do matters, that no mention of the past is going to help this time.

"Then don't."

Harry stares at him, makes another strangled sound as he shoves himself up, "I guess.... I guess I'll just get going."

Even manages to make it to the doorway before he finds himself pulled backwards and back into the seat. Severus gives him a blank look, obviously resisting the urge to deliver a biting insult as he sets his wand back on the table in an exaggerated motion.

"You seem to have misunderstood me, Mr. Potter. And once again since it apparently needs repeating, the only place you'll be staying other than my humble abode is St. Mungos. Unless you have another friend perhaps, that you'd like to ask?"

It's a mean thing to say, because he's pretty sure that there is no one. No one for Harry to call on now, despite the fact that the man had saved them all less than five years ago. Funny how the wizarding world is always so eager to forget their heroes once the deed is done. But he has to say it, has to offer it just in case there is someone, anyone, that Harry would prefer staying with. For once in his life, Severus has nothing but good intentions but that doesn't mean he's forgotten who he is. He's still the greasy git, the great bat of Hogwarts, and spying had never given him a chance for much friendship. Not that this was friendship by any means, he wasn't here to be Potter's friend.

Potter only buries his head in his crossed arms, looking much younger than his twenty four years and Severus has his confirmation. No, there was no one else. At least not anyone that he can stay with. For a moment Severus considers digging further into the subject, asking about various housemates- he vaguely remembers Harry and Luna being close for instance. Luna wouldn't be able to take him in, but at least it would be something. There's too much risk however that if he were to ask, Harry's answer would be that they'd all left him behind and that would only make the boy more upset.

"Let's try that again. Is there something that would help you feel less like a burden? I have no issue with you staying here without earning your keep so to speak, however if doing something would make you feel more comfortable, I don't mind. That had been part of my intentions with having you around the store but you've requested "

They study one another, Severus with his arms crossed and Harry peeking out from beneath his fringe, and the moment stretches until Severus gets up from the table to clean the dishes, to give himself something to do with his hands. He's startled when the other man joins him at the sink, taking each washed dish and drying it off before placing it on the rack. It's only once all the silver wear and glasses are finished that Harry speaks.

"I'll clean your house or something I just can't.... I can't handle the shop. I don't know what you told your clerk but he always gives me these looks and I feel even more self conscious. I can't handle anymore pitying glances. "

"I merely told Mr. Andrews that you were helping me out on a favor. However, I think you may be misinterpreting the looks he's giving. He doesn't seem to pity you so much as.... admire you." With the issue mostly settled, Severus feels comfortable to go about gathering his things to head into work. As is his conversation with Harry this morning has put him at least an hour behind and with the cold season coming up, he really can't spare the time, not with remedies to be made. As such, he barely catches Harry's snarled, 'oh. it's the boy who lived thing then' as he steps into the bathroom. By the time he exits, finally ready to leave for the day- he notices that Harry has retreated to his bedroom once more, and gives an exaggerated sigh before poking his head in.

"Oh don't be so over dramatic. I was attempting to be sensible, but since you're determined not to be- No, it is not about who you are or what you might have done. Mr. Andrews is much more interested in admiring your physique than complimenting your character, what that may be." and Harry is left blinking at the empty doorway as Snape apparates out.

He flits listlessly about the house for the first hour that Severus is gone, unsure of what he can do. Clean the house he had said, as if Severus didn't already keep things clean. As if his bookshelves weren't perfectly organized by a system that made no sense to Harry, as if there were cushions to wash or the floor needed to be cleaned. Eventually he drifts into the kitchen, too anxious to flutter about the rest of the house any longer and sets out to return the favor. Stands in front of the fridge for another half hour unsure of what to do, what to make.

Harry ignores the slight shake to his hand as he finds the knife, ignores the bile rising in his throat and instead takes a deep breath and allows himself to get lost in the simple art of making. He may have been complete garbage at potions, but years of cooking for the Dursleys and then helping Molly Weasley in the kitchen when she allowed it- it ensured that this was something he could do.

If Severus is shocked to find his kitchen counters covered by food when he comes home, he does a good job of hiding any sign of it. Harry's pulling a pan out of the oven when he enters the room, and when they meet eyes- he flushes.

"Are you planning on feeding the entire Weasley clan, Mr. Potter?" It's out of his mouth before he can stop it, and Severus grimaces when he watches the fleeting happiness on the other man's face fall.

"I can.... well you can banish it if you like. I just.... figured you could heat things up when you wanted them. I just wanted to do something for you.... make myself useful... Guess I went overboard."

Severus sighs, crossing so that he is standing next to the younger man and tentatively squeezes his shoulder, " Thank you. We shall eat like kings."

It isn't an apology, but it's something and Harry seems to understand how out of character even a thank you is if the look on his face is any indication.

The two work together to clear away what wasn't meant for dinner before settling down to eat. Harry still seems jumpy and Severus is unsure how he's supposed to proceed. It's been a handful of years since he was a teacher and just as long since he'd really had meal time companionship.

"Do you have any idea what you'd like to do tomorrow? I can't imagine that my fridge will hold much more, though I suppose we could transfigure another one."

It's meant in jest, but the boy looks uncomfortable again and Snape isn't sure where he's misstepped until Harry finally answers him minutes later.

"Cooking was really the only thing I could think of. It's not like you're a messy man, Snape. I just don't understand why you insist on having me here, it's definitely not for the pleasure of my company."

There's an arch of the brow and Harry flushes when Snape simply says, "Perhaps it is."

"Is this about my mom? You don't have to.... I know it wasn't your fault. You don't owe this to her." There's a tick in Severus's jaw but Harry blunders forward, "I just... I'll promise. I'll even do an unbreakable vow. "I solemnly swear that I, Harry James Potter, will not try to off myself. Would that be enough? I just... can't do this. You can't like having me around anymore than I like being here."

Snape doesn't move for several moments and when he does, it is to cross to the liquor cabinet. Wand in hand he undoes the three layers of wards around it, pointedly refusing to acknowledge the look Harry gives him on the subject. The Potion's Master returns to the table with two glasses and a bottle of whisky, pouring a finger for Harry and shoving the glass towards him before filling his own. Once the younger man has picked up his glass, Severus knocks back his own before speaking.

"My motivations have little to do with your lineage, Mr. Potter. We've spoken about this before, you realize? I do not like repeating myself, but if it calms your conscious any- you are not a burden. You're a troubled young man who was discarded after the war. I'm helping you because someone told me what had happened and asked me to make sure you didn't wake up alone. You might consider my duty done then when you came to in the ward, but Harry, you need help. You need a place to heal while you get back on your feet and neither living alone in your apartment nor being trapped in a hospital ward would do you much good.  I was forced to heal from my traumas alone... I do not think you should have to do the same."

It's then that Harry realizes just how old Severus really looks. Or perhaps, not old so much as tired. With grey hair throughout the black locks, and frown lines in his face. He shifts uncomfortably, knows that such honesty probably cost the man a good bit to admit, and still unsure of what to say.

"You called me Harry."

"If I remember correctly, it was you who requested that I do such. However, if it bothers you... I will endeavor not to do so in the future."

"No, I wasn't complaining. It was nice. Thank you."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure I should clarify that this is all unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own. I do try to look over things but I've probably missed something.


End file.
